


Intrusions and Tea

by ofpensanddragons



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Tea and dancing, bickering but hey it's Mal and Inara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9373094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofpensanddragons/pseuds/ofpensanddragons
Summary: A solitary night of meditation and relaxation is interrupted, as it often is. Maybe this intrusion isn't as unwelcome as it seems.





	

                The shuttle smelled of lavender and a wooden sort of incense, burning quietly in the corner furthest from the door. Inara sat in meditative silence, a soft lute music playing in the background and a pot of tea steeping in the gold pot atop the table centered in her room. A singular black tea cup sat aboard the matching gold tray, with no thought for visitors during her time of tranquility and peace. Her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply through her nose, letting it out through her mouth in a bit of a huff.

                “I seem to recall raising some ground rules with you regarding my shuttle when I first looked to rent it. And again when I handed you my deposit. Oh, and every time thereafter when you seem to fail to remember.” Inara rose an eyebrow in Mal’s direction near the door of her shuttle, and he stepped from the shadows of his ship with a bit of a smirk on his lips.

                “Getting’ mighty quiet ‘board my ship, what with half the rest of my crew gone, and the others bein’ a doctor makin’ googly eyes at my mechanic, and his wayward sister. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with talkin’ to Book, but his preachin’s gettin’ a mite old.” He was bored; he’d sent Zoe with Jayne and Wash to finish their job, their buyer having once voiced her displeasure with the captain by gunshot wound. Unfortunately, those had been the days before Simon had been aboard, and the scar above his left hip was as ugly as any battlefield wound. “Surprised you ain’t gone to find work. This ain’t an empty backwater planet, just an unsavory one.”

                “Just because it’s pleasant for you, doesn’t mean the clientele is pleasant for me.” Inara breathed another sigh as she rose, her slippered feet making no noise as she met Mal and cupped his elbow in her hand. “Thank you, Mal, for your company, but I was just beginning meditation-“

                “Havin’ a cup’a tea? Don’t suppose you got enough for two.”

                “No. Mal, I-“ The song changed to a ballad, a soft piano medley with the quiet soulful tones of a violin. Wordlessly, he took her hand not grasping his elbow in his own, and put his other hand on her waist, shuffling softly with his feet to the tune. “What are you doing?”

                “Dancing. Know you danced before; done it at that nice shindig few months back. You remember?”

                “How could I _forget_? You almost died.”

                “Uh uh, no, see, I had a plan-“

                “A plan to get yourself killed? Why am I not surprised? You’ve always had that self-righteous sense of heroism-”

                “Gorramit, woman, can ya’ just be quiet for a minute?” He snapped, and she looked offended for a moment before closing her mouth. Another few steps, and the rigid way she’d been holding herself relaxed. As the song ended, her head had ended up on his shoulder, and she realized they had spent the better part of four minutes in absolute silence. Not bickering, not glaring daggers at one another, just silently swaying back and forth to the sound. It was oddly pleasant, though she wouldn’t relay such a thought to the man still swaying to the calming sound of a rainforest on some outer planet.

                She stepped back, his hand lingering a moment on her waist, before it dropped to his side like dead weight. That was pleasant, though he hadn’t the vaguest idea what had possessed him to do something like that. At least last they danced, it was to get under the skin of the prick that looked to her like a possession, rather than the kind, endearing person Inara could be. Not that she was. To him. Ever. “Well, don’t wanna keep you from your womanly… things. Got a ship to run and a crew to find.”

                “Mal.”

                “Hmm.” 

                He hadn’t turned himself around yet, but had glanced about the cabin in an awkward sort of way. A very un-Malcolm sort of way. “Stay. Have some tea with me, relax. I’m sure you need it. Sit in silence, just… be.”

                “Silence? Ain’t sure you know that kinda thing we got going on, but it ain’t ever been silent.” Mal responded in a chuckle.

                “Just for a moment.” Inara used his own words against him, a polite smile on her face despite the exasperation in her eyes. She hadn’t invited him in, but she had invited him to stay. It was still out of character, though the silence was out of character for them both. “Sit. This time, I’m not giving you the option unless you can’t be quiet.”

                “I can be plenty quiet-”

                “Then prove it… by staying that way.” Mal’s mouth opened to protest, but he closed it fairly quickly, and let her lead him to her little sofa by the elbow she hadn’t let drop since before the dance. She did when they reached the sofa, and sat herself down in a graceful swoop of her knees. Another cup appeared from beneath the table stretched before them, and she poured an equal amount in each for them both. A cube of sugar each, spoon swirled counter-clockwise three times, and with a flourish of her wrist, offered him the cup with an open palm. “Tea, much like wine, is a sipping drink. Don’t down it like liquor. Let it last, let it calm you.”

                Her voice was like seduction, probably why she was so adept at her job, and he obeyed, sipping at the cup rather than taking a large drink. He didn’t even open his mouth to quip at her, just to drink the tea in relative silence. The song persisted, and her eyes closed, the swell of her breast moving with her breath through her nose. He watched a moment, entranced, before he too closed his eyes and listened to the music, sipping at his tea every so often. It _was_ calming; the soothing sounds of the rainforest shifting into another piano medley. The smell of sulfur drew him from the trance-like state, and Inara rose silently to tend to the incense, exchanging the extinguished stick for a fresh one.

                “Ya’ know, I kinda like your wiles. I see how a man would come to you, if’in he had an itch to scratch.” Inara’s eyes narrowed at the small slight to her profession, but it was still a step forward, less of an insult than some of the other things he’d said. Cruel things, hurtful things, but things she rose above. It was just… Mal’s way. “What kinda incense is that? And this tea, for that matter.”

                “The incense is sandalwood. One of my favorites. The tea is chamomile and vanilla, it’s soothing and I like it.”

                “Ain’t bad. Might see ‘bout getting’ some. For Kaylee. Ya’ know, she might appreciate it, what with-“

                “With the way you don’t show… well, _anyone_ **any** form of appreciation  ever?”

                “Hey, I do plenty appreciatin’! Scores of it, in fact.” Mal crossed his arms over his chest.

                “You never intend to change, do you, Malcolm Reynolds?” Inara sighed with exasperation, taking a sip of the tea in front of her.

                “Ain’t makin’ a fuss to. Know a good many people like me for me.”

                “Oh, like the buyer you had to skip out on because she can’t trust you as far as she can throw you? Or Weasel, who would sell you out to the Feds if he would get paid for it? How about Justice? Or Penny? Or half the guǒshí zhóuchéng Alliance-allies planets? You’re brash, and rude, and surely my line of work isn’t the _only_ one you spit at.”

                “Ain’t heard me talkin’ to preacher much, huh?” He cocked a smirk, which quickly disappeared at her answering glare.

                “That’s not the point, Mal. You don’t even try to be the least bit understanding to anyone, and you’ve insulted most of your crew, the doctor, your buyers, and me. I would say all of your crew, but I’d have to be sure Jayne had feelings to upset, first. You don’t take other people into consideration, it’s like you’re pushing people away.”

                “Maybe I am!” He groused before standing, downing the last bit of tea from his cup. Mal wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, catching a droplet of tea with his wrist. “Thanks for the tea. And the dance. Ain’t gonna happen again.” He turned on his heel, marching for the door to her shuttle without a look back behind him.

                “Mal.” She called, rising after him and getting to the door of her shuttle just as Wash had bounded up the stairs, looking towards the corridor after him. “Shénme yǐ fú de míngyì?"

                “Oh, look honey, you _were_ right. Nothing’s changed since we left.” Wash joked to Zoe, and Inara shut herself back in her shuttle for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> shénme yǐ fú de míngyì-what in the name of Buddha?


End file.
